A Hairdresser's Story
by Naughty-Spy
Summary: Sydney's Hairdresser tells her story of an amazing woman she once knew. SV


A Hairdresser's Story

**Disclaimer:** Alias belongs to J.J. Abrams and counterparts

**Timeline:** Post The Telling, but basically the entire Season 1 and 2 of Alias.

**Summary:** A hairdresser tells the story of a woman she once knew. Not an average fic.

**Dedication: **Kimberley, the best friend I've ever had and ever _will _have!

**A/N: **Thankyou once again to CRUNCHY for beta-ing. 

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I began the job experience of a lifetime in the summer of 1999; I call it the job experience of a lifetime because that was where I met possibly the most amazing woman in this universe. It was a great job, my co-workers were great and fun to talk to, and the main hair stylist and owner of the salon, Georgio, was a darling. I only had a couple of customers at first.

Firstly there was Hilary, with curly brown tresses that wanted all of her hair chopped off. She wanted a buzz cut. I thankfully talked her into a shoulder-length cut, and she was delighted with the result. She left happy, and came back for the occasional wash or trim. 

Next there was Ben, he wanted dreadlocks. I needed Tina's help for that. Tina and I worked as a team, and that was in my second week, when I finally started to enjoy coming to work. I'd been scared the first week, not sure if I fit in yet, they were all so close. 

My third customer became a regular. Sydney. She had flawless shiny brown hair and came in for a treatment every fortnight, although the times and day of the week always changed. I asked her why once, and she told me that she worked for a bank, and she had to travel all the time and on different dates, so the appointments had to change. 

One of the things I'd always loved about hairdressing was conversing with the customers. Talking to them as the people they were, discovering their lives, their identities and the identities of everyone they knew. I remember when I was a little girl and my hair was braided for my Auntie's wedding, I began telling the hairdresser everything about myself. She seemed curious to know, and it were as though she earnestly wanted to find out more about me, and since then, I had always thought it would be fun to know everything about the people whose hair I was doing too. 

I wanted to be a writer. Tell stories of the world, of love or loss, of romance and desire, of betrayal and forgiveness, downfall and redemption, trust or hatred, of action, and of adventure. I decided hairdressing would be a good way to discover people, and their stories, which I could incorporate into my first novel. And besides, I had a high IQ and the job seemed a cinch compared to what I could have been. But I had left school when I was young, so many career choices were out, but that will come later.

I always introduced my customers to light questions at first, what they had done so far that day, where they had been, who with, and gradually built up to what they did, if they were with anyone, and so on. 

I remember the first time I spoke to Sydney. She seemed pretty closed-off, not very extroverted and as though she held people at arm's length, which I suppose she did. I had to pry pretty hard and even then the details she gave me were brief. I gradually learnt that she worked for _Credit Dauphine_, the very bank that my friend Jeff had worked at. I asked her if she knew him, she didn't.  He'd been fired for embezzlement and had gone to jail. I left that part out. Jeff was probably before Sydney's time there anyway. 

Sydney always seemed so quiet. She did seem happy though, at first. I learnt that she'd had a sweet date the night before with a guy she'd met at college; she went to the University of Los Angeles. It was a really good school and extremely hard to get accepted to. Her roommate was also her best friend, Francie and she was taking English Lit and later wanted to teach it. Her mother had died when she was younger, so Sydney was following in her mother's footsteps, and her other best friend was a temporary freelance journalist, Will.

Sydney told me how she'd admired a sweet medical tech from afar, and Francie had run up to him and requested his number, but he'd told apologetically that he wasn't interested. But Francie had simply laughed and asked him his name. 

_'Daniel', _he had replied. And then he'd looked over at Sydney, watching her watch him with a smile in her eyes, and asked for her number. Apparently he'd seen her in the cafeteria one day and had wanted her number for a while. Sydney told me about how Francie had giggled and laughed that she wanted his number _for _Sydney. He'd grinned sheepishly and they'd gone out for dinner that night, and they'd agreed they'd had an exceptional time.

Sydney seemed so happy at that moment, telling me about him, and it was also the first appointment I'd had with her. She came back roughly two weeks later, for the same treatment, and happily confessed she'd been out with _Danny, _(which was what she now called him), 3 more times since I had last seen her. I had smiled, decided it was sweet, and it really was. 

There was always something about Sydney. I don't know, maybe the way she smiled sadly and the way she looked at me, as though she knew something I didn't know, as though she had a secret. 

But Sydney's life seemed so light and airy, so cheerful that I couldn't imagine her existence held any secrecy. I suppose I became her confidante, she began telling me personal titbits about her life. I suppose they were like snapshots, and I cherished them, in a photo album I guess. She shared with me flashes of her life; she didn't talk to her father much, she was getting Francie a pair of earrings for Christmas, she'd slept with Danny after 6 weeks, her friend Will had landed a job at a newspaper. I soon craved for Sydney's life; I guess it was so sweet and happy. It even came to the point where I wanted to _live _Sydney's life, and there was still that air of mystery about her. I became so curious, and her life just seemed, well, _picture perfect._

I'd never had a good life. I was born in Midnight, Mississippi, and my father had repeatedly beaten my mother, almost to death. I had run away when I was 14, and never looked back. With running away came leaving school, so I had therefore never been able to get such a great job. But I'd always adored writing when I was still in school and I found myself wanting to continue down that path. Hairdressing was a job I supposed as simple as any other, and I remembered doing my dolly's hair as a child, and when I saw notice of a vacancy at the salon in the newspaper, I applied. That's pretty much how I fell into hairdressing.

I had escaped to L.A maybe about 2 years after leaving Mississippi, and never made any actual friends apart from the people I worked with. I'm not proud of it, but I obtained room and board by doing sexual 'favours' for men. 

I was finally accepted into the salon after Georgio, the homosexual owner had fallen in love with my hairstyle when I went in for an interview, and I'd told him I had styled it myself.

Sydney became my thread to the world, to a real life I pined for. Her life just seemed so _normal._

6 months down the track and I was still doing Sydney's hair, although the days became more irregular as she became more and more attached to her work. But Sydney always asked for me t be her hairdresser. That made me proud, knowing she either liked the way I washed her hair, or she enjoyed talking to me as much as I her, and she wished to continue our chats. I believed it was the latter, she enjoyed my company, and she soon knew as much about me as I her, as our conversations always stayed constant as we talked about each other. 

We traded facts about each other; she was still with Danny, I'd gotten a cat, Francie was dating a guy called Charlie, there was a new girl, Kellie, working at the salon, Sydney had quit her gym because there was one she could use that her work invested in, I loved to swim. Will had broken up with his girlfriend, there'd been a small fire at my house, it was Amy's son's birthday party and Sydney hadn't known what to buy him so Danny had gotten the gift and Ben (Amy's son and Will's nephew) couldn't have loved it more. My older brother had come looking for me after al these years, wanting to come home but I'd flat-out refused and he'd told me my Mother was in hospital, that Dad was still beating her. Our conversations became slowly yet steadily more personal as we became closer and closer. 

Another 6 months later and Sydney and Danny were living together, I had found a sweet guy and we were happily dating, Francie's catering business was doing well, I'd bought a fabulous new lounge suite and now considered Sydney one of my best friends even though I never saw her outside of the salon, and Sydney was getting hauled off on more and more business trips. She told me she liked that I never complained about her business trips. They were important to her; she was the only one at the bank that could do the job that was required, but Francie didn't understand how valuable Sydney was. 

Yet I understood. Sydney loved her job, she found purpose in it. I loved mine, my novel, inspired by one of my customers had been read by a small publishing firm and they had written back that they'd liked it, and were keeping a copy for their editor's to play around with. I told Sydney this and she'd grinned, and exclaimed that she was truly happy for me. She told me about her boss, Sloane, and that he had invited her to dinner. Again.

The happiest I had seen Sydney came when she walked in one day, wearing a cute pink sweater and jeans, and her smile was a mile wide. I was at the back with another customer, and I heard the bell above the door ring, signalling someone's entry. I then looked up to see Sydney waving to me sheepishly and I noticed the flash of gold on her left ring finger. I'd barely finished with my customer when she jumped up and gave me a hug, telling me what I had realised from the ring. Danny had proposed! I grinned madly, telling her _'congratulations'_ as fast as it would fly out of my mouth. She wanted me to do her hair for her wedding, she hadn't thought about the planning yet but I'd curled it and styled it for Danny's birthday party the previous month and she'd venerated me for it. 

That night I lay awake in bed, so happy that Sydney had found someone to love her. She assured me Danny treated her well, and I couldn't be happier. Sydney felt like my little sister as much as anything and I knew I was protective of her. 

A week later, I was sobbing as I hard a familiar name on the news. There had been a murder, a young man stabbed to death, leaving behind a grieving family and a beloved fiancé. The man's name had been Daniel Hecht, and he was known fondly as Danny. I had gasped in shock, before breaking into tears at what I knew must be Sydney's unbearable grief. She had been so happy, so hopeful, as though a life with the man she loved was all she wanted. Just happiness. And it had been ripped away from her with a brutal stabbing incident. 

Sydney didn't come back to the salon for almost 4 months, and by that time I had been worried sick about what may have happened to her. I guessed she had just been grieving the entire time, but when she came back she seemed normal, and as though she was dealing. Her hair was still as pretty as usual, I supposed she had been putting in treatments herself.

But although Sydney looked the same on the outside, I was sure she had changed. Maybe something about her fiancé's death had hardened her, because although she smiled frequently, it failed to reach her eyes, and where she was usually bubbly and cheerful, she seemed withdrawn and not forthcoming in our discussions. It was as though she was afraid to tell me anything. I could only imagine what she had gone through, and the two of us didn't share normal conversation for another 3 appointments at least.

I had been trying unsuccessfully for a while, wondering what secrets she held that she was so frightened to reveal, and I had tempted Sydney with normal conversation, but she never took the unskilfully planted bait. She was smart, and I knew that she knew what I was trying to do, and I guess that's why, for my sake, she attempted light conversation.

But I finally broke through the shell created by her grief. It was an airy, sunny day and she had been shopping with Francie that morning. She said she had a rare day off, and she looked almost giddy. I asked her what she had to be so happy about and she told me nothing really, but work was finally looking up. She didn't like it as much as she had at first, but she felt she had a purpose and then she cryptically told me that she now felt she was helping people even more so than she had before. When I had asked her what she meant by that, Sydney had simply laughed, and I had been happily surprised. It was the first time I had seen her laugh since Danny's death and it almost made me grin, but I didn't want to make a big deal out of it. I was glad she had almost driven over the hard road life had taken after the unexpected turn. 

It was about a 3 months later when she mentioned a new co-worker she had, Michael. She hadn't even told any of her friends about him yet, but she felt really close to him. As close as she felt to me, she admitted, pleased which caused me to smile widely at her through the mirror. 

So Sydney's life went on. I watched happily as she became more and more like the Sydney I had known before Danny's death, and now she possessed an essence, like strength and willpower, that just seemed to shine from her eyes. Determination. I had no idea where she got it from, but it worked. 

She talked to me a lot about Michael. He was really understanding, he was really sweet, he was funny, and he was gorgeous. They talked about hanging out after work but the bank policies forbade fraternisation between co-workers. I suggested a couple of times to Sydney that maybe he was more than just a friend to her. After all, the way she talked about him, she always smiled when she mentioned him, unless she was talking about how they could never date or even hang out. But Sydney was adamant that he was her friend, a good friend, and they would never be anything more. 

It was a few appointments later when she told me she'd almost lost him, he'd gone out on a limb for her and the result had been very dangerous. She sounded as though he had almost died. But he'd almost been fired, that was the repercussion. She finally admitted after that, that she maybe had a crush on him. I grinned and laughed, shouting an _"I told you so!" _around the salon that had other customers looking up in bewildered interest and Sydney in a fit of laughter after Georgio told me to, and I quote **_'stop being so loud, customers come here to get their hair done, not to listen to me acting like an imbecile.'_** I nodded silently, and Sydney laughed frivolously at me, mocking with a '_bad girl!' _I couldn't help but smile back. 

This woman, Sydney, my **friend** was just amazing! She'd lost her fiancé just over a year ago, she worked at a place where she wasn't allowed to pursue a man that being with made her happy, she was constantly being flown to different states for boring briefings with clients and banal conferences that dragged on for hours, and she was laughing!

Sydney had been to another tedious conference the day before, and Sydney always told me humorously that all the people in those rooms had absolutely no personality. All they were interested in was money, and they wanted even more than they already had. Sydney whispered to me quietly that she always ended up talking to the bartenders or waitresses after she conversed with her clients about business because she always found the 'real people' much more interesting and certainly more down-to-earth than the rich populace that resided in the rooms.

I couldn't help but admire the woman. She was not only smart with a high education and occupation, but she was beautiful, she had great friends, and a huge quantity of strength and confidence just oozed from the woman.

After a while soon all I heard was _Michael, Michael, Michael,_ but I enjoyed listening to her talk about him. Sydney seemed happy on that subject, but she came to me broken-hearted one day, after finding out that he had a girlfriend. She seemed so upset about the subject that I was almost afraid to ask what had happened, but I did find out that he had tried to confront Sydney about 'the girlfriend' later and she had walked away; it pained her to hear him talk about his girlfriend when her feelings for him were so strong. I told her to give him a chance, he always sounded like such a nice guy, and there was undoubtedly an explanation if she would listen to him.

In the end she did, and then 30 days later I was gasping with pleasure when she walked in smiling widely, later telling me that her boss had retired and she and Michael were dating after he had broken up with his girlfriend for her and they were free to be together. And for a while, she was happy again. So, so happy. I swear to God, it was the happiest I had ever seen her. Even happier than the day she had accepted Danny's proposal. 

Sydney would give me updates of how she and Michael's relationship was progressing, and from what I gathered, they were both enormously happy, and made a great couple. He took her ice skating, to hockey games, and involved her in the parts of his life she'd never been able to be included in, while in turn he slept over her house, even had breakfast with Francie and Will, who were now together too. I'd burst out laughing when she'd told me her two best friends were happiest when dating each other! 

The people that Sydney spoke of seemed so real. They were important people to her, and I found it suitable that she had a challenging job and she hadn't had the best time growing up, but the things that were the most important to her were her friends, including Michael whom she confessed was practically her best friend. She could tell him things she couldn't tell even Francie, like some things concerning her work. But then again, she admitted, she could tell me things she couldn't tell Michael, because they were _about _Michael. How much she adored him, what her father had thought, that she loved him. 

I knew she was in love with this guy. It was even more obvious now that they were together. And from what it sounded like, he was in love with her. But I hadn't guessed how in love they actually were until he came to the salon one day. 

Sydney was in, getting her hair washed and trimmed, and it was the first day she'd had off in about 3 weeks, so Michael was planning on taking her out to dinner so they could have some romantic alone time that didn't involve her roommate and other best friend. There was a convenient store next door, so Sydney came in and I did her hair, almost jumping with excitement when she told me he was taking her on a picnic and picking up food from the shop next door.

He walked in when I was about halfway done with Sydney's hair and I smiled instantly. This man looked perfect for Sydney. She'd told me about his excellent structure, piercing green eyes, and wide smile, but I hadn't pictured him to look so adorably sweet, a boyish grin on his face when he looked at her. 

And the way he looked at her, so full of love, his eyes shone of pride and desire, as though she were the most fulfilling lunch in the world and he'd been starving for years. It were as though they completed each other's existence, for I could tell when she looked at him, she needed him. Like he needed her. Such a strong feeling, need. 

I grinned later when she introduced us, calling me her **'friend'**, and I could see his eyes twinkle when she introduced him to me as her **'boyfriend'**. I let them go without further talk, I could see they were anxious to spend some time together, their closeness was demonstrated by how in-tune their bodies were. Not only could they not keep their hands off each other, but also their eyes rarely left the gaze of the other's for more than a few seconds. I looked at them wistfully as they left, but quickly put on a smile for my next appointment. I was glad Sydney had found a person who I _knew _was right for her, and if I even believed in such a thing I'd have called him her **soul mate**, but at the same time I felt a pang of loneliness for the love they shared that I had obviously never had with anyone. 

Sydney's fortnightly visits continued, they were more regular now. Her work schedule had decreased, I happily noted, and her new boss didn't seem as dependent on Sydney for everything. Sydney seemed so much more content, her life, perfect, but she deserved it. After all the hell she'd had, she was finally happy. And she was able to share her bliss with Michael. The two were so right together, I observed during the next couple of times I saw them interacting, when he picked her up again with a dreamy evening planned. He even sat in a couple of times, a look of serenity on his face as he watched her silently.

Sydney watched him watching her, her eyes almost mocking. "He's so irrecogible!" She laughed.

"Yeah, but you love it." I answered happily.

She nodded in acquiescence. And as they left, his arm draped comfortably over her shoulders and hers around his waist, I'd never seen her happier. I swear to God. She looked almost incandescent, and she was radiant with the happiness and love that was so noticeable between them.

That was the last time I ever saw Sydney. 

She'd missed her last 3 appointments, and I wasn't sure what had happened, but I guessed it was just work getting in the way again, since it hadn't for a while. Perhaps her relaxed schedule had been leading up to her employers sending her on a constant stream of trips, y'know, _the calm before the storm?_

But then, after yet another month, Michael came in, looking like hell. He looked asleep and groggy, but he still carried himself with an air of faith, almost, as though he refused to surrender. His eyes held steely fortitude and determination, and I practically ran to him, wondering where Sydney was, _was she okay, what had happened?_

"Where's Sydney?" I breathed.

He looked shocked to see me, as though he didn't remember me. He blinked a couple of times, and looked at Rebecca behind the desk.

"I, I… just came for a hair cut. Sydney, Sydney, would have requested it." He stammered. _Wait, would have?_ I looked to his dishevelled appearance, then made him sit down, had he and Sydney broken up?

"Michael…" I started unsteadily. "What's happened to Sydney, she's missed 5 appointments now and.. well, has something happened between you two to make her upset or something? Did she move? There's no reason for her to go missing for 2 and a half months that I can think of!" I finished desperately, a bout of nervous laughter coming from my throat. When I looked back at Michael, my smile wavered; his eyes seemed sunken and defeated.

"Sydney is… Sydney is… Sydney's been missing for almost 3 months." Michael stated, looking up to meet my sceptical gaze .

"Excuse me?" I asked in disbelief, my perfectly shaped eyebrows narrowing dramatically.

"You have to understand, I can't give you the entire story, it's classified, but I know that Sydney trusted you a lot. 

Sydney and I, we both worked for the government, and Syd was, well she was elite. The best at what she did. The crème de la crème. But, being the best at… that… meant she had a lot of enemies. We were going to go to Santa Barbara the weekend after you last saw her, we'd both had a strenuous week, it was after her last appointment with you though, and I dropped her off at her house on Thursday night with the premise of picking her up in a couple of hours after some work that I had to do. But Earth's equivalent of Satan must have found her, at least that's what we're guessing, and she hasn't been seen or heard from as of yet. It's all right though. She'll be back soon, that I guarantee." Michael almost smiled through the tiny teardrops that had appeared in the corner of his eyes.

I frowned, my eyes tearing up at the thought that Sydney was in the hand of some evil bastard. "So you were spies?" I asked, confused.

Michael just looked at me, his eyes telling me the answer I had already guessed.

"And, she's missing. So she could be halfway around the world, strapped to a chair somewhere while being tortured?" I asked incredulously, not knowing whether to accept or doubt this ridiculous story.

"That's where she was just over 2 years ago." He answered solemnly. My jaw dropped, as I looked him over sadly. If all this was true, Sydney could be dead, or broken, _and_ **_anywhere_**.

"Why haven't you given up yet?" I asked quietly. 

Michael looked at me thoughtfully. "In this business, you lead a dangerous life. It isn't unheard of for people to go missing, and often, they return and they're okay. I have to believe Sydney is alive. Not just for me. But when I think about… what they could be doing to her…" He trailed off as his voice croaked, revealing his emotion, but then he cleared his throat and looked me in the eye, continuing.

"Sydney is perhaps the strongest person I've ever known. And not only that, but she's excellent at what she does. If anyone can survive, it's Sydney. I just can't stand to think about… anything else." He finished and I noticed the tear tracks down his unshaven cheeks.

"Oh Michael." I sympathised, not knowing what to do except pull this man to me, holding him uncomfortably but giving him condolence and comfort, which I sensed he needed. 

I could just picture him not even succumbing to sleep, refusing to give up on her, checking every piece of information he found over, and over, and over again. Rejecting any thought that what he was doing was in vain. I had seen their love. I knew they weren't likely to give up on each other soon, or even **at all**. But Michael… he just looked so hopeful. As though he was certain she were just a shadow waiting to be bathed in light, but then he also looked so sunken when I saw him in the darkness. It was as though whenever he thought of any negatives occurring, he would crumble. It must have been hell for him, wanting her so much but being no closer to figuring anything out. 

Michael and I became tight after he told me about Sydney that day that changed everything. We both missed her so much, and there was comfort in each other's distress. We became closer and closer, from talking about her, and discovered so much more about her than I'd previously known.

So 'Mike', as I fondly came to know him, and I became best buddies. I was introduced to Eric, Will, and even Sydney's Dad. All these people that had been touched and affected by Sydney's animate presence and loved her as much as I guess I did. She was just such an amazing person.

I knew that Michael still hadn't accepted the possibility that Sydney might not be alive, but I soon came to think of her as _'dead'_. After all, it had been 6 months. That's a long time to be missing or _tortured_, even for supposed **Super-Spy Sydney**. Eric accepted her death around the same time I did, and we consoled each other over many bottles of tequila. I found it endearing that he hadn't been a _fan _of Sydney while she was alive, but he nonetheless felt her absence. 

But Mike, he still didn't believe. There were a lot of nights I'd go over to his place, and he was drunk as any street-bum, and he'd be sitting calmly at his kitchen table talking to the seat opposite him, calling it _'Syd'_. It made me cry, looking at him. 

He wouldn't even acknowledge my presence, I was as dead to him as Sydney wasn't, and he truly believed she was there. Even when he wasn't drunk, I'd hear him softly asking her what tie he should wear or at the time was. He wouldn't, or _couldn't_ accept her death. 

He needed her like he needed air to breathe, and I feared that without her, he was suffocating. It certainly looked like it too. The looks he would have, as he was deprived of her, and how was he supposed to go on when he missed her so much? I swear his heart broke just thinking of her. 

_To love someone so much and not be able to have them, not talk to them or see them or be able to tell them something that you're busting to tell them. You want to share everything with them, only they aren't there._

I think that's why he started talking to her. He was never very close to Jack, but after 9 months, he and Jack were the only ones who still believed Sydney was alive. So I suppose Mike felt lonely, with no one to really talk to. He couldn't talk to Jack, not feeling comfortable. Maybe that's why he started talking to Sydney. As though she were there. Because he missed her so greatly, it was easy to imagine her. I once went over to his house and found him sobbing his heart out because he couldn't remember what her shampoo smelt like. 

Besides, he still seemed pretty okay to me. But maybe I just wasn't preceptive enough at first. Sure, I saw him talk to her, but everyone deals with grief in their own way, right? But I knew he had almost gone insane when she started replying. 

That's when we decided to fix him up, help him move on. He had to move on, believing she was still out there was making him crack. I don't know how we did it in the end, I suppose Jack played a strong part, but we had Michael leave the C.I.A, where I had learnt they had worked all that time, after Sydney left SD-6 anyway. 

So Eric made him move on. Because, if he believed she was alive, he would really break. Mike was going insane by simply having faith that she would be okay. In this instance, faith was not a good thing, because we were sure she would never return. She still hasn't.

It's been 18 months now, and I don't see Mike anymore. I realise I can't, because he has to **really** get over Sydney, and he can't do that if I'm around, reminding him of her with the same shampoo [from the salon], and the intricate knowledge I had of her too. I hear from Eric, he's doing well. He's even in a relationship, although **_Eric_** told me he thinks she's a bit _high-maintenance _and a bit of a _man-eater_.

I still think of Sydney sometimes. The woman who touched us all, brought us all together, gave me some great friends. She really was incredible. All the time I knew her, she was putting on brave faces when she dealt with murder, death, and all things evil every single day. I mean, how do you have faith in anyone when you see things like that on a regular basis? 

But Sydney always had faith. And I guess when she didn't, she had Michael. I've learnt from Sydney that I should always have faith, and when I don't have the faith I need, I think of Sydney. She is for me what Michael was for her. A tether of hope to the world. She's strong. And I know she'll come back one day. I'll have faith. And I know that we convinced Michael not to have faith, but it was killing him. I **do **think she'll come back, and I want him to be alive and sane when she comes back to him.

Because even though all the odds are against her, pointing out her death, someone like Sydney doesn't just simply **die**. She's too incredible to just leave without a fight.

So I guess now you realise that I did it. I always wanted to be a writer. It was Sydney that made me realise if I had the faith, I could do anything. And here it is, 'the amazing story of Sydney Bristow', my first _real_ and _regular_ hairdressing customer, which inspired my first published novel. Her tale was told. And I hope people learn from Sydney, that even when your life is screwy as hell, and you feel like giving up, there's someone who cares, and someone who can make it better. 

And since Sydney didn't give up, no one else deserves to. If someone like Sydney, who had seen so much pain, death and destruction in her life, could get by and stay strong, then anyone can. 

I hope you come back soon, Sydney. There's a fortnightly place in our appointment book reserved for you. And I promise I'll be your hairdresser.

A/N~~~ Soooo………? Did you like it? Was it a nice taste of a different P.O.V? Did you enjoy it? Click the purple button (if you can be bothered, you don't gotta!) and tell me what you thought! Please?!?!?!


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